Quid Pro Quo
by Sychronergy
Summary: Japan sends their most promising investigator to dissect the brilliant mind of Beyond Birthday. Every day, for one month, they will speak for one hour. "I will rip your self-control out, drug your sensibility, and violate your soul."
1. The Game

**Quid Pro Quo  
><strong>By Sychron

**Rating:** T  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> Progressive BBxLight  
><strong>Death Note:<strong> The Greatest Detective in the World, L, has caught Sy declaring ownership, but released Sy when he was promised 100 of The Greatest Cheesecake in the World.

Japan sends their most promising investigator to dissect the brilliant mind of Beyond Birthday. Every day, for one month, they will speak for one hour._ "I will rip your self-control out, drug your sensibility, and violate your soul." _

* * *

><p>The claustrophobic hallway exuded an aura of death as madden prisoners jeered, howled and stared from behind staunch bars. A stale, wrenched stench seeped from every crack until the scent was nearly visible with a lingering aftertaste. A small, sturdy wooden oak chair was placed in the end of the hallway; isolated and out of place. The set-up was crude, but it fitted with the classless stone walls and the hospital did not particularly care for the comfort of the invading police force.<p>

Light Yagami headed to the chair, taking care to present himself as confident and ready. A decorated pen gleamed from its place in his breast pocket when the dim light struck it at the right angle. Light reached up to brush back a piece of hair—perhaps it was out of nervousness, or perhaps it was out of place. He highly doubted that his audience was sane enough to differentiate between brown or black hair, or care if the invader was confident, but it was habitual to look his best. When he passed the fourth cell, the contained prisoner suddenly cackled, as if struck by Nitrous oxide.

"Another young rookie sent to the big bad wolf! Oh, I bet you won't last three minutes with your pretty, pretty face," the crooked, toothless grin dripped pity, scorn and mania. He reached up his hands, bringing up grim and jagged nails, as if welcoming a younger relative for a hug. Light pointedly walked past the prisoner. He had set his eyes on the end of the hallway and he refused to take in any of the demented men damned to life-confinement. Despite his discomfort and the obvious lack of tack in the place, Light was sent to do a job, and he would do the job well. A loud rattle told him that the man threw himself at the metal bars. Even the clinically insane didn't like being ignored.

Light glanced at his gold watch when he straightened his shirt and took a seat. It was exactly 5:00, and the next hour of his life would be wasted in this hell hole, attempting a civilized conversation with the most uncivilized maniac Jarreston Hospital for the Criminally Insane had to offer. Across from him, and behind a three-inch-thick reinforced glass wall, Beyond Birthday's still figure crouched on a crass bed with his head down, eyes glued to his knees. All Light could see was the ugly striped prison garb, a shock of wild, black hair and pale fingers that gripped the raised knees. A neatly folded blanket sat next to man. Light noticed that everything in the small cell – toothbrush, small plastic cup, blanket, towel, and a pillow – was neatly arranged and orderly.

Light settled himself, crossed his legs as he pulled out a note pad, and removed the pen from his breast pocket. He took note of the air holes on the glass wall, and a foot-long slot for passing items on the side. The cell was nearly air-tight. When he clicked the pen, the other's head slowly raised. Beyond Birthday still had the looks of a well-groomed civilian; perhaps a little underweight, but clearly passable for a random man in society. Certainly a change from the rest of the hospital's occupants, and Light supposed that a notoriously brilliant murderer had to have some sense of self-maintenance. Light tilted his head lightly, brown hair shifting noiselessly across his pale forehead as he finally met Beyond's black eyes.

It was intense – black, liquid fire meeting his own pretentious, chocolate eyes. Beyond's eyes radiated fierce confidence, sanity, and intelligence despite the foolish outfit and uncombed hair. As Beyond stared, a leer formed on his face, creeping slowly until his mouth was upturned in something that was not a welcoming smile. Light refused to let surprise or annoyance register on his face or body. Instead, he forced the contempt to fuel a calm superiority within him that allowed his smile to grow wider and friendlier. Light crowned himself a master of both noticeable and unnoticeable body language— here, he somehow knew his skills would put to test.

Leaning back slightly so he appeared even more relaxed, Light held the gaze and spoke in English, "Hello, Beyond Birthday. My name is Michael, and I'm here to speak to you, a privilege the hospital kindly extended to one guest in our department."

Light had picked a common American name. In Los Angelos, 'Michael' would be unsuspicious and Light saw no reason to divulge his own name. He had heard rumors that Beyond had an uncanny power to guess the name of anyone in his sight. Whether it was true or not, Light would see—he doubt Beyond would keep the knowledge to himself. When Beyond didn't reply, Light forced himself not to fidget or cast doubt on his ability to speak English. He knew, to a point of arrogance, that his English was nearly flawless. He noticed with his peripheral vision, that Beyond's right index finger jerked slightly, leaving it half an inch from its initial position. To Light, it meant a reaction – Beyond heard him. Beyond's eyes slowly trailed up, staring at a spot above Light's head before returning to capture his gaze. The man still refused to speak, clearly not interested at small-talk.

"This will get boring if you want to play the goody-goody two shoes mute," Light said. He hoped that a strike to the man's pride would entice something vocal from the man. In his idleness, Light wondered what the man would sound like. From the compelling stare and orderly room, Light would place his bet on a clear and low voice.

"Should I melt or should I turn to stone?" Light jibed three minutes later, allowing something akin to a whine slip into his voice. He remained completely still, gazing across the room fixedly, only moving his mouth. The childish, haughty words completely contradicted with his relaxed body posture. Mismatched communication was an unspoken challenge and taunt that tended to irritate even the most controlled stoics. Light knew this would get a verbal reaction. When Beyond spoke, his voice was indeed, clear and low.

"Little boy," the black haired male spoke in perfect, unaccented Japanese. "I speak your language better than you speak mine."

If Light was surprised at the fact that Beyond knew his ethnicity, his body did not betray him. Tension gripped the room as Light simply nodded and conversed, slipping back into his native tongue, "I should thank you for indulging me, then."

"I indulge you, and you indulge me. I speak for you, and you change to the language of my choice like a puppet," Beyond replied immediately, a sheen of unveiled triumph gleaming from his eyes. Here, he sat a little straighter, bringing his thumb to his mouth. His left foot shifted at the movement, creating a new crease in the black and white garment. As Light watched, he bit his thumb lightly and spoke around the digit, malice leaking from his eyes, "I should also thank you for not subjecting me to your horrendous English."

Light had a split-second to respond. In the split-second, he narrowed his choice of response from six possibilities to two equally appealing choices – retort with malignity or play it like a fool. He opted for the latter since he was here for information, not immature banter. Without missing a beat, he held his hands out, palm open, accompanied with a half shrug, "I apologize, but now that we've settled the difference, perhaps we can move on."

"Oh no. We've more differences than _that_. I envy you, you know. You have the freedom of the outside world, a world of _Light_ and joy," Beyond smiled, an ostentatious display of friendliness.

"Slitting a few less throats tends to grant people a tad more freedom," Light said. An equally false lilt of light-hearted cheer entered Light's voice to mingle with his normally serious voice. Light didn't miss the stress on the word 'Light' and concluded to himself that, Beyond, indeed, was able to guess or know anyone's name. Light refused to allow the fact to make him nervous – it was definitely a question for another day. At the response, Beyond's facial expression shifted slightly. The smile edged into something slightly more genuine, and immensely more amused.

"Light Yagami," he breathed, removing his thumb from his mouth, body rising slightly as if preparing for an attack. "Since I came here four years ago, there have been one-hundred and eighty-six chances for me to escape. I came up with twenty-two methods I could use to attain _freedom_ any day."

Light Yagami did not flinch when the expected name was thrown at him. Ludicrous as it sounded, Light Yagami had no doubt that every word Beyond spoke was true. The man simply did not seem the type to exaggerate his ability – he was too proud. Light also knew that the expected reaction was shock, fear, skepticism, or, to the bravest men, curiosity. He decided not to satisfy Beyond's expectations; it was not as though Beyond would satisfy his curiosity. The statement was meant to be a display of superiority, an attack meant to strike a point, and hope to land his opponent in trepidation. For some reason, Light felt the briefest sense of thrill course through his body. He tilted his head, as if in curiosity, but proceeded to swiftly switch the topic – a clear dismissal at Beyond's impossible accomplishments.

"I think I am supposed to ask if you found your surrounding comfortable," Light said smoothly. This time, Beyond didn't hide his irritation, and Light didn't hide a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. Beyond's abyssal-black eyes narrowed in annoyance while Light's own widen slightly in amusement.

"One day," Beyond hissed. Then, suddenly, his demeanor morphed into something calm and relaxed. His voice grew distant, and a hand reached up to swipe at a piece of stray black hair that fell into his eyes. He turned his head up, pale throat fully exposed as he languidly raked his fingers down his face. His thumb resumed its former position at his mouth. "Humans will learn to ask less useless questions, and we'll all have fewer throats torn out."

"Was that your punishment for the inquirers or was that a simple declaration?"

"Let's not play coy. That cheap question was meant to place motive behind some of my actions, right?"

"A few dozen investigators questioned you. You don't have much of a pattern or motive, do you?" Light had thoroughly read the thirty something reports on Beyond. They were equally uninformative, equally useless, and Light had trouble reading some of the shaky handwriting. Light pitied the fools who pitted their feeble mind against Beyond. Despite his iron self-control, he had to admit the man was slightly discerning. The man, in the two years before his capture, had brutally murdered over two hundred people — seemingly without reason. However, Light himself fully accepted_ entertainment_ as a possible reason for the psychopath.

"Light, Light, _yehiy 'or_," Beyond easily slipped into the ancient language before returning to Japanese. Suddenly, he snapped his head forward, his eyes shining with heated mirth. "Let's play a game. Me and you. _Quid pro Quo_."

The challenge hung unanswered in the air before Light blinked slowly, as if considering the challenge. He uncrossed his legs, and re-crossed them again– reversing the positions his legs were crossed. Once again, something very close to excitement modified his posture, sending jolts of electric adrenaline down his spine. He went with it, leaning forward and slipped his pen and notepad back into his pocket. He never planned to take notes anyway – eidetic memory had its perks.

"Perhaps it would work if you inform me the rules."

"_San-gu-is Bi-bi-mus. Cor-pus E-di-mus_," once again, it was a challenge, a battle of words, using the language itself.

"Cannibalism is too messy for my taste," Light replied, careful to choose words that implied moral neutrality. He ran his hands down a ceaseless pant leg on the pretense of smoothing it out with excruciating attention. Language was yet another strength of his, and he himself never forgot a single word, in any language, that he heard or saw. Beyond did not reply for nearly three minutes, his whole body perfectly still. He only blinked ten times, Light counted.

Light thought about provoking him again, but he did not want to seem desperate. He was directed to spend a month interrogating the killer, with very little imposed expectations. After all, everyone had expected him to be driven insane within a week; many more seasoned investigators had long given up. The only movement Light made was a glance at his watch. He had forty-five minutes until the hospital demanded his leave.

"I spent the first week plotting my first twelve escape plans. I spent the next four years wondering what to do if I got out. I came up with nothing, so I stayed," Beyond finally said. "Cannibalism may prove to be worth my time."

"I don't think so."

"I'd start with you, Light-chan. You look _damn edible_."

"Cannibalism won't suit you," Light met Beyond's leer with a slight raise of eyebrow, ignoring the mocking honorific. Light had previously observed that the skin on Beyond's thumb, despite the compulsive biting, was perfectly intact and unscarred. Lowering his gaze until he traced Beyond's lips and thumb with his eyes, Light murmured softly, "You don't bite very hard. I will guess you prefer soft food, and as such, won't enjoy chewing through human skin."

Beyond laughed— sharp metal against stone. His laugh rose and roared in volume until a subtle chill gripped the bottom of Light's neck. It sliced through the air with inhuman strength until it turned into a choppy, choked hack. Beyond fell back, landing on his back on the small bed before ricocheting over to his side. The previously neat blanket rumpled as it met Beyond's jerking body. The pillow fell off the bed. Yet still, he laughed.

Suddenly, he stopped, and the silence caused more strain. The other prisoners were startled, and they both listened to the panicked cries. Light vaguely heard someone hissed 'Beyond'. When the noise died down, Beyond sat up, wiping his hand across his mouth, thumb lifting a trail of saliva that he then flung at the glass wall. It splattered as Beyond took up his previous crouch, legs apart and arms on knees.

"You're right. I'll tell you, my favorite is jam; strawberry jam. But do you know, Light Yagami?" He tilted his head, bangs sweeping across his forehead. He licked his lip as he intentionally raked his eyes over Light's pose. "You look soft enough to be eaten."

"I nearly mistook that for flattery," Light said, false gentleness and soft mockery interlaced with genuine amusement.

"_What are little boys made of? __Frogs and snails and puppy-dogs' tails," _Beyond quoted softly, voice slightly muffled by the thumb in his mouth. He rolled his hips once, causing a movement that resembled a stationed hop. Three new creases formed on his uniform. "I can smell your vanilla soap from here. You'll taste like artificial vanilla, won't you? Bitter, bitter, husky, and nasty. I'll have to clean you well if I want to eat you."

If Light felt disgusted at all, he didn't show it. Beyond's keen sense of observation picked up a slight tense in Light's shoulders before it relaxed. Beyond was…nearly impressed. Never had another human, since his incarnation, been so endurably _amusing. _Before Light, the longest amount of time it took to crack his interrogator had been exactly twenty-one minute. The shortest was less than 15 second. He merely greeted the man with his given name, and the fool ran away, foot faster than the laughter that followed. And Light still maintained his obviously forged, ridiculously relaxed pose, his eyes as calm and intelligent as they had been when he first went in. Beyond felt exhilarated, the feeling manifested into a hard bite down on his thumb.

"What was the game you proposed previously?" Again, clear dismissal without any spoken reaction.

"Light-chan, we're both liars. _Liar, liar, pants on fire,"_ Beyond sang. Light looked at his watch again. Beyond guessed that the hour the hospital usually allowed was more than half over. "If there is a next time, we'll play."

"I never agreed to play. I only inquired the rules."

"A very simple game. Question for question. Answer for answer. Truth for truth. _Quid pro Quo._" Beyond's eyes glinted a maniacal glee, tongue darting past his lips and thumb to run over his upper lips. "Don't pretend to think, I know you'll agree."

Light agreed, which he conveyed with a slight nod. If anything, it would be interesting, and Light prided himself to be an impeccable liar as well as lie detector. He knew each and every sign of a liar, from the obvious tilts to the more obscure slight facial muscle movements. Not to mention, he knew exactly how to twist any truth, and withheld crucial facts.

"Oh, you're thinking, but you shouldn't bother," Beyond grinned. "Do you know, you always suck your lower lip in slightly when you're thinking but not talking? And, your blinking slows down by roughly half a second when you're thinking and talking. If you lie to me, or toy with the truth, I'd know right away."

"Half-a-second? Did you pull that from your ass?"

"That was my lie. That you didn't detect," Beyond stated it in a tone of voice similar to a teacher lecturing a student.

Light took a deep breath to calm himself down before the irritation got to him, "Praise, that was the most brilliant lie I've heard."

Light paused for a second, observing the lines in the rumbled blanket next to the man serenely. There was 19 minutes left to this session, if he was right, and he was never wrong with his internal clock. The first fact the man stated was a habit he recognized himself; he could feel the pressure as his tongue pressed lightly against the inside of his mouth. Light had not expected Beyond to notice a fact that no other human, not even his perceptive father, ever noticed.

Light gasped slightly as something landed on his lap. In the moments he took his eyes of the black haired man, the man had snatched and threw something at him – the toothbrush. The thin handle sailed through the air-holes in the glass wall smoothly, and Light grudgingly admit that Beyond had a great aim.

"So Light-chan can be caught off guard," Beyond said as Light gingerly picked up the toothbrush.

Light was relieved to find it not coated in a layer of undesirable liquid, "Beyond-san truly likes being the attention, does he not?"

"You're one to speak, Light-chan," Beyond shrugged, and spread his knees until he crouched with his elbows between his legs, one hand sliding down to grip the edge of the bed. "Your presentation – clothes, hair, and everything; how you pay attention to your body language and words. You love standing on a pedestal where everyone could worship you and grovel at your feet."

"I could simply be super-conscious of myself," he argued, more for the entertainment of playing Devil's Advocate than to pose a true argument.

"No, Light-chan. You walk with the air of an arrogant man. You ignored the maniac that warned you of me, didn't you? He was far too low for your attention."

"If you classify every man that chooses to ignore a maniacal fool as arrogant, the world has quite the problem with hubris," Light said.

"Doesn't the world? Every human lay claims to some obscure form of virtues, most without knowledge of the meaning of the word itself."

"Does it bother you?"

"No, and I do not indulge in human morality. I also do not see the point of interrupting another when he is making a mistake. Like you, Light-chan. Speaking to me, will be the greatest mistake of your life." Beyond sounded nearly regretful – as if Light's misfortune would bring him unhappiness. As Light watched, Beyond slid his thumb out of his mouth and down his throat, tilting his head to look at Look through hooded eyes. The thumb stopped to violently cut a horizontal line across the middle, and left a trail of glistening saliva behind. A painless imitation of a knife's mark, before it rose to meet Beyond's mouth again.

"You cannot break me, Beyond," Light followed the movement with interest, but he was not afraid.

"If you break, that will be a pity, and not fun. It will most delightful to watch you struggle with the fact that I will rip your self-control out, drug your sensibility, and violate your soul."

"_Pride goes before destruction, And a haughty spirit before stumblin_g," Light quoted as reversed his legs again, and crossed one arm to grip the other by the elbow. He knew the move could be seen as defensive, but he didn't care. Thirteen more minutes, and he'd have a whole night to reflect, plan, and deal accordingly. The move caused Beyond's eyes to light up.

"You're finally showing yourself; am I right to say our time is almost up?" Beyond smirked. The thumb he was chewing up left his mouth to join his other hand on the edge of the bed. "I hope your girlfriend cooks you a nice meal when you get home."

"Girlfriend?"

"Your tie, Light-chan. You didn't pick it out yourself."

"Even if you're right, anyone else could have done it," Light saw it another opportunity to probe the man—grasp a thin line of thought in the man's mind. He was careful to avoid giving away information about his family.

"When the cost is equivalent to a fur jacket? Not a mother's or older woman's taste. A man usually does not give another a tie. It's a little too fancy to be a friend's gift. So, a girlfriend."

Indeed, his girlfriend gave him the tie. Satisfied with the response, Light rewarded him with a small nod. There was little point in hiding the fact. The arm on his lap rose to hover over the pen in his breast pocket, not quite a touch.

"You don't love the poor girl, do you?" Amusement rang clearly from Beyond's voice. It transversed the distance with a confidence that made Light glare at the man – the first time the shield in his eyes lowered.

"Why would she be my girlfriend, then?" Light winced as he said it. To answer a question with a question was one of the most obvious forms of evasion. The drab surrounding and Beyond seemed to have made his mind a little less sharp.

"No denial," Beyond cackled. He leaned forward, looking ready to propel himself. "See, in this hour, you've touched every single article of clothing on yourself…except your tie. You made a big show of smoothing out none existent lines in your shirt and pants whenever you felt particularly bored. Yet, you didn't do the most common – straightening out your tie."

"I could simply not have the habit," Light's voice was tight. "You are accusing me of not loving my girlfriend because I don't fix my tie when it is still in shape. Watch how silly you sound."

"Light-chan, yet again, you did not deny the claim. You can't just disagree and say that you love her, can you?" Beyond licked his lips, mirth dancing in his ruthless eyes. "People usually touch what gives them the most comfort – most would go for the most expensive piece. You don't want to think about the girl, so you don't touch her gift, right? Poor girl."

"Certain humans also do not like toying with their most valuable possession." It was a fact.

"Out of insecurity of losing or breaking it, but Light-chan is not a very insecure person, is he?"

Light held Beyond's eyes as he fingered his tie lightly, loosened the knot before he pulled it tight again. Then he ran a hand down the silk fabric, and wished that the last ten minutes would pass faster.

"Oh, let's change the topic," Beyond said simply. The unspoken words rang clearly to Light. Beyond was on par with Light in terms of brilliance and reading individuals, and now he proved it. For the third time, Light felt the explicit grip of excitement course through him. Suddenly, he looked forward to this month with daily, hour-long visits to the mass murderer.

"Last time, a young man from Japan interviewed me. I asked him, what is interesting. He told me, a phantom murderer—killed without a trace, very bloody, nasty piece of work. Can Light-chan humor me?"

Light was not sure if he wanted to keep the prisoner up to date with crime news, but he figured it could not prove to be useful. He himself had nothing else to talk about, "It was a matter of giving the victims a medicine that kept their body fresh to throw off the time of death. Case closed."

"You caught her," Beyond stated.

"You're creating a rather bad habit of blind guesses, but why did you say that" Light asked, his head tilting lightly as he blinked slowly. He had, indeed, caught the murderer after accurate deduction of the correct time and location. He did not know how Beyond knew, but he guessed that something in his body language gave a brief shift in pride.

"How old is Light Yagami?" Beyond changed the topic again. Light immediately detected the genuine desire to know, and retorted with an inquiry of his own.

"Tell me about a murder the police don't know about," Light said. As much as he had burning questions of his own, it would be far more impressive to dig out unknown information.

"So quick, Light-chan, so quick. You live to please, don't you? _On your knees to please_," Beyond drawled, sing-song voice in tune with hands that reached up to grab his own neck. "A little boy. He was very annoying, very loud; kept complaining about being cold."

"So?"

"I gave him anti-freeze." Beyond gripped his own throat, tightening his hands until his voice strung tight with the lack of oxygen. His eyes laughed as they bugged out. "You can find his body for evidence…if you look deep enough into the Atlantics Ocean."

Then he released his throat, and dropped his arm on his knees until hands dangled harmlessly from his knees. Light felt sick, for the first time. It suddenly occurred to him that, brilliant or not, the man in front of him was a monster in the form of a human with bright, charcoal eyes and tousled ebony hair. Yet, he could not deny that he was amused.

"I'm twenty-two."

"How many women have complimented Light-chan's looks? How many men?" Beyond asked. It wasn't a question, and Light didn't answer. Beyond trailed his eyes over Light's body, took immense delight in the way the muscle tightened briefly wherever his eyes roamed.

The alarm rang once to indicate that his hour was up, and Light stood to leave. He ran his hand through his hair again. This time, he knew it was for assurance.

"Did Light-chan enjoy his visit?"

"Many wealthy men would pay for ten minutes in my position," Light smiled softly, deliberate sarcasm used to evade the question.

Both men knew, and both knew the answer he did not give.

"Will you return my toothbrush? Will I see you again?" Beyond asked. He stood up, walked to the glass wall, and two fingers slid through two nearby air holes.

Light bended to pick up the toothbrush by the handle. He twirled it once in his hands before he answered; with a single, calm syllable "No."

He walked away, not bothering to inform Beyond Birthday of the month's arrangements. After all, he owed the man one lie.

_Quid Pro Quo._

When he walked past the fourth cell, he took a moment to glance at the rabid man, who deliriously spoke to himself. It was hard to believe that the scum and Beyond lived in the same place. He tossed the toothbrush into the cell, through the metal bars, and admired his own aim as the stick directly landed on the man's lap.

By the time the toothless, hairy face turned, Light was out of the shadowy hallway.

* * *

><p><strong>Quid Pro Quo<strong>: This for that / Tic for Tat / What for what.  
><strong>Yehiy 'or<strong>: Let there be light. Hebrew Bible phrase.  
><strong>San-gu-is Bi-bi-mus. Cor-pus E-di-mu<strong>s: Sanguis bibimus. Corpus edimus: We drink the blood. We eat the flesh.

**A/N**: If anyone is interested, I'll also love a _Beta-reader/partner_. Feel free to message me.  
><strong>AN**: Light is arguably, not his 'I HATE HATE HATE criminal' canon, but I believe that if he does not have the Death Note, he would have been much, much more calm about that. He has a job to interview this criminal, and if anything, Light would aim to do the job well.

Please **review**. (:


	2. Moral Entropy

**Quid Pro Quo  
><strong>By Sychron

**Rating:** T  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> Scratch this; I can't ever seem to stick to these. I only enjoy slash though.  
><strong>Death Note: <strong>To be honest, we just like writing clever disclaimers. No one ever really think a fanfiction writer would hold the license.

* * *

><p>When Light left the prison-hospital, the staff gave him a look that clearly said 'You look sane. What's wrong?' He simply strutted past, a hand reaching up to comb through his always neat hair. He made it a point to straighten his tie again, fingers sliding over the exquisite silk, even though he knew Beyond wasn't watching. Light glanced at this watch once he was cleared of the hospital's holding cells. The path from the dark holding cells –from Beyond's prison— to the main hospital lobby took exactly 4 minutes and forty eight seconds to walk.<p>

If anyone was surprised that Inspector Light Yagami survived an hour with Beyond Birthday with his mind intact, they did not show the surprise by the time Light took a slow look around the lobby.

Light simply signed out, and hailed a taxi back to the apartment he rented. He didn't feel like walking. Somehow, the conversation with Beyond had exhausted him physically as well.

He told the driver his address, and the vehicle moved. Light turned unseeing eyes to the streets and dully noticed the colors fly by. One day down, twenty-nine more to go. His father told him that these sessions would help him capture a criminal mindset better, and allow him to better predict a criminal's movement. It would lead to more successful cases, he said. Light had kindly reminded the Chief that he had yet to be stumped, but his father remained adamant.

"Your English is very good for an Asian guy. Grew up here?"

Light supposed the driver was the talking type – friendly professionalism with the intention of slipping his customer a business card; a suggestive 'Use me again next time'.

"No." And that was that. Light crossed his legs and stared out the window. This time, he focused on the labels and stores to emit a clear 'Do not talk to me'.

The clear message wasn't a challenge the taxi driver had the desire (or mind) to tame, and Light was left in peace. His mind drifted back to a certain man with dark, highly intelligent eyes and messy raven hair. Suddenly, the intensity of the event in the past hour struck him. He remembered the pale, long fingers wrapped around that throat, tightening, as Beyond casually described a life he took.

Suppressing a shudder, Light promised himself he would think about it later –if he had to think about it at all. The taxi in the middle of the busy Los Angeles was too public of a place to think about Beyond Birthday.

When the cab pulled in front of his apartment twenty minutes later, though the rather heavy traffic, Light nods in confirmation.

"Sir, the fare—"

Light hands the man a twenty dollar bill. American money had always been unusual compared to Japanese Yen.

"Keep the $6.50 change." Flat, confident words.

The driver looked spooked enough to jump out of his seat. He nervously placed the bill into his jean pocket and glanced at Light. Light ignored the uneasiness that radiated off the man and opened the door. He felt slightly better and less exhausted. At least the rest of the world was not a calculating genius. At least the rest of the world was predictable and easily oppressed.

Before he closed the door, he turned to the driver once again, "I'll like your business card."

The driver feverishly nodded, and began digging through the pile at in front of the cup holder. Two inches worth of paper fell into the passenger seat before the driver pulled out a card.

"Sorry, sir."

Light nodded and gave a charming smile when he took the card. The smile lasted until he securely locked himself into his apartment. He threw off his suit and tugged his tie off. Never, _never_ before had he ever met someone quite like Beyond. An aura of murder and danger clung to the childish prisoner like a second skin.

"_I spent the first week plotting my first twelve escape plans. I spent the next four years wondering what to do if I got out. I came up with nothing, so I stayed." _

Unable to control himself, Light looked around his apartment. Then, he rolled his eyes and flipped the lights on. Beyond was human, and humans do not materialize out of thin air. What had gotten into him?

Light hung up his suit and proceeded to unbutton his shirt, before his eyes fell on the tie again. The tie, as Beyond had correctly guessed, came from his girlfriend, and had cost enough to pay the rent of an average apartment for three months. Of course, his girlfriend wasn't average and the money spent was probably her hourly wage.

Being Japan's top teenage model came with certain benefits and his girlfriend, Misa Amane, knew exactly how to take advantage of the system.

Thinking about his girlfriend reminded Light of how much he still despised her bubbly personality and obsession. He rejected her the first six times she asked, but she never went away, and there were only so many times he could turn down Japan's female wet dream before he was labeled mentally instable or homosexual.

So he promised to be her boyfriend, and she promised to allow him some time to himself.

His cell phone rang, and he flipped it open. Caller ID told him it was Matsuda, calling long-distance.

"Light-kun. Light-kun," said Matsuda. His voice was wild, expectant, as it he had news he couldn't wait to tell Light. But Matsuda was an easily excited man— whatever he had to tell was probably as exciting as the setting sun, Light thought.

"Hello." He prepared himself to be bombarded with questions about the madman he was supposed to study and learn strategies from.

"Have you read the newspaper?" Unexpected, thought Light.

"The United States president gave a speech, an airplane crashed, and a big political figure was caught with teenage call girls." Those were the headlines today.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're in the USA now," said Matsuda. "You won't believe this, Light, but there's a case. A new serial killer."

The idea that Beyond had suddenly escaped and restarted his regime of crime flashed in Light's mind, and he took a deep breathe breath. He was being sillier than Matsuda.

Matsuda's voice turned into a loud whisper, "No one knows how he is doing it. Today, a new body is found. Everything about the body was perfect – no signs of struggle, no bruises or cuts. The internal organs are in perfectly condition too – except the lungs. The lungs were torn into tiny pieces. Inside the body. Obviously, that's the cause of the death, but," Matsuda's voice rose again, "we have no damn clue _how._"

"Lungs torn into tiny pieces, but everything else about the body is intact…?" questioned Light. Count on Matsuda to reiterate and ramble when the important details could be given in one line. Possibilities started churning in his mind, but he soon dismissed most of them. His ability to quickly run through and eliminate scenarios was part of what made him one of Japen's top. He briefly pondered if it was some form of corrosive chemical, and voiced the question.

"Nope. No trace of any chemicals whatsoever. My god, the lungs were in tiny pieces. Wait, Light-kun, I'll send you the case file. Check your E-mail," said Matsuda. "We might need you back here. No one knows how to handle this case."

Light fell silent, and Matsuda knew it was time to hang up.

Light hurried to his computer and in less than a minute, it was ready to use. Light had always demanded the best technologies, and the budget was usually stretched to allow Japan's most promising young detective the most promising equipments.

By the time he logged into his E-mail, Matsuda had already sent him the report. Clearly, that had been part of the plan before the man even called him.

Light glanced through the report. Thirty years old Alex Li moved to Japan two years ago, and worked as a waiter in a cheap restaurant. The man had an outstanding drug habit and was involved with the wrong side of law, but had no hospital records. In other words, a typical young hooligan that haunted the dirtier parts of Japan streets. Light clicked the attachments.

The first four pictures showed a body in perfect condition – the young man was lean, and lightly muscled. There were no bruises, cuts, or marks.

Then, came the X-ray pictures. Light couldn't contain his gasp. Within the perfect body, was a mess of demolished lung. The organ had been so thoroughly torn, it was nearly liquid. It leaked and hung between the large intestine and stomach in a way that a lung shouldn't. Every other organ was pristine.

Light looked back at the peaceful body in the first picture, and forced down bile. It had been a while since he saw something as sick as this. He refused to look at the autopsy pictures, and silently praised whoever conducted _this_ autopsy.

He closed his eyes and decided to take a shower. He would shower, type up the report for Beyond Birthday –which he only had to fill out that no, Beyond Birthday did not say anything useful other than admitting to a murder and dumping the body in the Atlantics. Light decided to complete this first. Six quick sentences, no thorough elaboration, and he quickly sent the document to Japan to be filed like every other useless report.

When he stepped into his shower, and allowed the hot water to run over his hair, face, and body, he relaxed. Beyond didn't matter anymore, since he didn't have to deal with the man until tomorrow. His mind flitted back to the case Matsuda sent him. The perfect body with the jellied lung.

If he could figure out how, which chemical or material the murderer used, then the police could easily trace the source. Light daresay that the chemical was not a common one. The murderer clearly wanted to start a game. A game to stump the police, and flaunt his own creativity.

A man who killed for the simple sake of opening cryptic cases. Light imagined asking Beyond _how did you think this happen_. Beyond would know, of course, and Beyond would tease him. Beyond would tease and test him until he fidget and squirm, but Beyond would give the answer. Because for men like them, evidence was everything.

Light wondered how on earth was the case even remotely related to Beyond.

Turning the faucet off, he pulled the curtain back and a gust of cool air hit him. He scowled. Los Angeles, the city of Angels, felt much colder than Japan, especially at night. He wondered if he had packed sufficiently – he immensely disliked the cold. At the thought, something nagged the back of his mind.

"_A little boy. He was very annoying, very loud; kept complaining about being cold."_

"_So?"_

"_I gave him anti-freeze."_

Light froze. The hot mist did nothing to sooth the goose bumps that suddenly crept up his body. Along with realization of an idea that suddenly hit him, he felt the familiar flash of pride he always felt when he solved a particularly unusual mystery.

Light called Matsuda's office as soon as he toweled himself dry and threw on a bathrobe. Since it was night in Los Angeles, he knew it would be sometime in the afternoon in Japan. He was too distracted to immediately come up with the exact time.

"Light-kun, did you look at the case?"

"Yes."

"It's so creepy, isn't it? It's like someone took out his lungs, dropped them off from the Mount Fuji, scooped it up, and injected it back into his body. God, I—" Matsuda paused, and Light could imagine the shudder that coursed through the man's body.

Then, the phone changed hands, and Light heard his father's voice.

"Son, did you come up with anything?" The fact that Chief Soichiro Yagami was directly involved meant the case was either incredibly important or incredibly interesting. Since Soichiro had never been an adrenaline chaser, Light knew it was the former.

"It's definitely chemical," said Light. His hair felt sufficiently dried, so he hung the towel around his neck, scowling at the sudden drop in the temperature.

"Do you think they injected some kind of undetectable chemical that could melt the lung? Needle marks can be hard to detect."

"I was thinking more along the lines of frostbite, actually."

* * *

><p>Again, the hallway was a pandemonium of insanity.<p>

"Light-chan said he won't come back."

Beyond definitely looked exhilarated to see him, Light thought. The man was still in his odd crouch, and his hair looked even messier. He still sported the orange prisoner garb, and Light noticed that his toothbrush had been replaced with an identical copy. This time, Beyond made no attempt to ignore him or play language games.

Light composed himself in a similar manner as yesterday; his movements purposefully calm and confident. He settled in the wooden chair, and crossed his legs. Today, he wore a casual, stripped red shirt and pressed pants. He doubted the other cared about his outfits, but he had felt that a stiff suit would suffocate him even more than the stone walls and black eyes that bled asphyxiation.

"I lied," said Light.

"I knew you were coming back since eighteen hours ago," replied Beyond. His fingers rose to grip the sides of his face, and his pinkies stretched his mouth into a wide grin. "Why is Light-chan so excited today?"

Light raised an eyebrow, and reminded himself not to shift in reaction, "I stayed up all night thinking about our wonderful chit-chat yesterday."

Beyond slipped two more fingers into his mouth and pulled, the four digits stretching his mouth into a demented rectangle. He stuck out his tongue, and wagged it lightly. "Bad boy."

"There is a case," Light spoke suddenly. He sat up to convey his false excitement, hands absentmindedly brushing his hair back. Beyond's eyes followed his every movement, and his own eyes stared into Beyond's eyes.

"I'm listening," said Beyond. "Maybe."

"A perfectly healthy human being was murdered," said Light. He paused, as it he would say more and watched as Beyond's fingers stilled in anticipation. Beyond was clearly interested, since his body gave a light shift in response. Light remained silent. _How long would it take to rile Beyond up?_

A minute later, Beyond twitched in annoyance, and removed his hands from his face. "That was the most, absolute most, fascinating _shit_ I've ever heard in my life."

"Tell me about another murder unfiled murder case," said Light. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew Beyond would do it. He sat back to listen, and watched as Beyond struggled with himself. He knew Beyond didn't want to give up his pride and submit by obeying Light, but Light figure Beyond's curiosity would get better of him. After all, he was not obliged to share the case, and nor was he obliged to obtain information. Beyond would gain the most of the information exchange, but Light would be given the upper hand.

"I injected a strong strain of Rabie into a family German Shepherd right after its yearly test," said Beyond. Monotone, as if the last person he ever wanted to see showed up and spoke to him. "Two weeks later, at a well timed family party, little pup went koo-koo and munchied six people."

"Clever, but boring." Monotone to match. Light wondered just how much Beyond was getting to him. To dismiss a murder of six people as 'boring' crossed some invisible line he had drawn for himself over the years and he felt it. It wasn't as if he would have broken down and wept, but he usually forced himself to show compassion, on the very least.

"But I shared. Tell me, Light-chan, what excited you?"

"I am excited?"

"Because you have ex-fucking-cited in glowing purple neon on your forehead." The vicious words were spoken in the monotone. Beyond's eyes were bored and dead, but Light could see that the man wanted the information.

Light calmly uncrossed his legs, and re-crossed them. He made a show of smoothing down his pants legs and sleeve before clasping his hands in front of his knees.

"Like a said, a perfectly healthy human body. No injection marks, no bruise, no cuts – no sign of struggle whatsoever. But very dead."

"Potassium absorption or any of the thousand little chemicals young boys shouldn't touch," Beyond immediately responded. He rolled his eyes, paused and proceeded to roll them again multiple times in succession. Light counted thirteen rolls. "Mostly undetectable, quite deadly, and very, very fucking boring."

"The lungs were completely destroyed," said Light.

That caught Beyond's interest.

"The other organs?"

"Donor material," replied Light. As he spoke the last words, Beyond's eyes gained an incredibly concentrated look. It was the kind of look Light saw in fellow Tokyo University students on the day before a major examination. Beyond had stopped playing with his face, and settled his hands into his knees. His mouth tensed into a straight line.

"How destroyed?"

"Corn beef," said Light.

"You know how it happened."

"Yes."

"No," said Beyond. His fingers tapped his knees lightly, as if dancing across a piano. "You were the one who figured it out, when everyone else was stumped."

"Yes." Light tilted his head lightly to the side and offered a half-shrug. Beyond would recognize the nonchalant attitude as a challenge.

"You wonder if I can do it too." Statement.

"Yes."

"How much time do we have left?" Beyond stared at Light, and his entire body was still. "No, don't look at your watch."

Light paused in the middle of unbuttoning his sleeve. His watch was still hidden under the fabric, and he buttoned his sleeve again. "Thirty seven minutes."

"Check your watch."

"I know I'm right," said Light. Suddenly, another idea came to him, "Quid Pro Quo, Beyond?"

Beyond shrugged, "Does Light-chan love his girlfriend?"

That was among the last questions Light ever expected from Beyond Birthday. It seemed like a cheap way to bite back. Remembering the day before, Light wondered if Beyond was the type who would do anything to prove himself right.

"No," said Light.

"You hate her, actually," Beyond looked incredibly proud of himself – faked, as far as Light was concerned. He picked up his blanket and held it in front of himself, allowing the fabric to cascade down, the bottom brushing against the floor gently. Suddenly, the orange suit and madman disappeared. All Light could see was a pair of hands and a gray blanket.

As the young detective watched, the mental patient took a corner, and started ripping the blanket into strips. Light raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"How would you kill your most hated enemy?"

"Is Light-chan asking how I want to kill him?" He shredded another strip of cloth from the blanket, and Light could see half of Beyond's face. The black eyes were glinting with a spark of madness and satisfaction. Beyond stopped and stared at Light with a single eye. "Abdominal pain and bleeding intestinal ulcers. After a few months of being unable to eat and constantly tearing intestines, it's over. They'll perform autopsy, and they won't find anything. No fancy chemicals or toxic. How did you die?"

Light didn't answer. Instead he stared at Beyond. He felt sick, to tell the truth. He felt like bolting to the door, and running from the single black eye before it devoured all the air in the room. Lifting a hand to his face, he forced himself, once again, to calm the fuck down. He was professional. No, he was among the best – beyond professional. The hand went down.

"That wasn't my question."

"And that wasn't the answer," said Beyond. Another strip of gray fabric was torn, and more of Beyond's face was revealed. Light noticed that Beyond wasn't shredding the blanket; rather, all the strips were connected at the end. "I wouldn't kill my most hated enemy. I'll force him or her into the most painful position possible, and let them live."

Another strip, and Light could see Beyond's left eye.

"Quid – How did Light-chan die?"

Light was unsettled. It wasn't the particular challenge. As a detective, he often had to figure out the how, and he was quite good at it. But he hated how Beyond spoke. How Beyond spoke of his death as it already happened, in that nonchalant voice and how he had to actually think about it. Light had never been suicidal, and the words 'Light' and 'die' simply never went together. Beyond was done shredding the blanket now, and he gathered the strips into his left hand.

"Tiger whiskers," Light finally said. "The barbs in the whiskers would latch into the stomach and intestines."

Tiger Whiskers was among one of the more obscure (but highly undetectable) murder methods. Light had never seen it executed, but he had studied too many books. Tiger Whiskers had microscopic barbs in every strand. They were tiny and no matter how many times one cut the whisker, they would still be there. Once consumed, they would latch into the digestive system, and never let go. Normal digestion movements would cause the barbs to scratch against the linings until the human body fell still.

Beyond looked absolutely delighted. "_Your_ stomach and intestines," he corrected.

Light gave a small wave with his right hand, as if the words had no effects on him. "Quo, what is your greatest fear?"

Beyond's eye visibly narrowed at the question. Light knew the man wanted to say he feared nothing. Beyond stayed silent, and Light began to count the seconds. Beyond stayed silent for four minutes before he answered, "I fear being ignored by justice."

He immediately spoke again, "Light-chan, what is in my hand?"

'A mutilated blanket' sounded childish, and Light was sure there was more to the question.

"80% cotton and 20% Nylon," answered Light.

Beyond grinned. It was the same grin he had when he spoke about Light's habitual thinking habits. It was a grin Beyond gave whenever he felt that he had upper hand, Light noted. Light gave a perfected smile of his own.

"No, what I have in my hand is a human lung," said Beyond. They were returning to the first topic. Beyond held out his other hand, palm held up, as if he was holding something delicate and dangerous.

"What do you have in your other hand?"

"What I have in my other hand, is a canister of Liquid Nitrogen," said Beyond. "Light-chan knows all about Liquid Nitrogen, of course. It's only negative 75 degree gas."

Beyond took his right hand, and held the 'Liquid Nitrogen' in front of his mouth. His body jolted, and he pretended to suffocate himself. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly raspy, "Any high school student would know, when something becomes cold, it becomes very, very brittle. And we have a thoroughly frozen lung. No other parts of the body are affected, of course. Maybe temporarily frozen, but not badly."

"Then some soft violence," said Beyond, as he immediately discarded the pretend canister and pressed down on the shredded blanket in his left hand. He immediately threw the blanket up and the two men watched as the ragged cloth flutter to the ground.

"My turn to ask a question, Light-chan," Beyond whispered. He gestured to the ground. "What is on the ground?"

"Corn beef," said Light. Beyond was mental, psychotic, and deranged, but Light felt the slightest string of respect for the man. He clearly knew his stuff. "In any case, I told the team to take the investigation into chemical stores."

The statement was as meaningless as it sounded, and Light considered it filler before he came up with the next question. He had also told the team to focus on people who knew the human body. In theory, part of the throat and stomach should have also been destroyed, but the murderer had only crushed the lung. They were careful, and knowledgeable of the human body.

"Could have easily been a High school or College," said Beyond. "Many schools offer a lab that involves having fun with Liquid Nitrogen."

"Most kids are too busy to plot muder," replied Light. He made a point to tilt his head at Beyond. "Exceptions apply, of course. Where did you grow up?"

"An orphanage." Beyond answered, and quickly followed it up—

"Does Light-chan know about the Disney princesses? Which one does he prefer?"

Light blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topic. When he was younger, it was a popular game. Adolescent boys would gather together and pretend to be all grown up by talking about girls – mimicking older siblings. Unfortunately, their only sources were cartoon girls from cartoon shows.

"I've always preferred Maleficent or the wicked Queen, actually. The princesses are a distasteful." It was the truth. The princesses, with their one-way mindset (always kind and looking for love), stood out to him as everything the world wasn't. They trusted easily, never helped themselves, and always spoke righteously - hypocritically. Plus, they all finished off with an equal lack of brainpower.

"Convoluted intelligence, unconventional beauty and deranged morals. I didn't know you go for that type, Light-chan."

"Why are you asking me so many questions about my dating habit?"

"I don't know" said Beyond. He lifted a finger to trail it across his lips, before gently sucking the finger into mouth in a purely sexual manner. He pulled back, and licked the base of his fingers until Light glanced away. To his credit, Light didn't blush. "I'm not interested in you. If I ask you questions about yourself, you'll be immediately put on defense. But dating and girls; all men talk about it. Most just don't know how much it reveals about a person. And I have nothing to do other than dissect your mind."

Light nearly bit his lower lips in shock. He had more or less assumed that the man's prodding were a result of his lonely years in prison. That, and a weak attempt to jab at his current relationship with Misa. With Beyond, thought Light, everything was a façade. Everything was a deranged game.

Beyond grinned again. Then he turned his back to Light and stared at the wall. Light knew, from his internal clock, that there should be roughly eleven minutes until the day's hour was up. He guessed that Beyond wasn't going to speak any longer. Normally, he might have felt agitated, but today, Beyond had been comparably lenient on intentionally inflicting psychological scars, and for that he was grateful.

Light decided to sit out the eleven minutes so the staff wouldn't have any questions. Light focused his gaze on Beyond's back. Light assumed that Beyond, despite his usual ability to learn people's name, did not have eyes in the back of his head.

For a split second, Light felt _lucky_. Never, in his life, had he met a person worth speaking to as an equal. Light had never met a person who could make his stomach do a double take in surprised because he was outsmarted in his own game. Usually, his mind was a light-year ahead, and no one kept up.

In fact, no one had ever kept up with him in anything. Whether it was grades, women, men, or anything his generation concerned themselves with. He had graduated as valedictorian from the top college, been repeatedly voted most handsome (and most promising), and was dating Japan's most desired woman. Women, if he were honest.

Light remembered a particular incident when he was seven years old. It was his sister's birthday, and his mother asked her what she wanted. Sayu, child as she was, replied 'everything!'

His mother laughed and gently explained, "But you can't have everything. What would you do if you have everything?"

"I want everything!" repeated his sister. His mother at smiled at the childish antics, and clucked her tongue gently.

"But then, if you have everything, what will you wish for on your next birthday?"

The question stumped his three years old sister. She quickly wished for a big teddy bear instead, and his mother smiled.

"I think," Light suddenly interrupted, eyes leaving the slice of cake that he had no intention of eating in the first place, "that if someone has everything, they would want their own destruction."

His mother gave a slightly uneasy laugh, and his sister was already distracted by her own slice of cake.

"Son, you say the oddest thing," his father chuckled. It was the first time the man spoke since congratulating his sister.

"No, father," said seven years old Light, with every ounce of childish excitement. He spoke with the pride of a child whom recently discovered how to tie his own shoelace. "Don't you think, that mankind is always seeking destruction— their own destruction? If someone has everything, gets everything, then more than anything, they would want to destroy themselves, just to see what it's like to have nothing."

Both his parents gave a small 'what a child' smile then, and Light fell silent.

When the hour was up, Light sent one last look at Beyond. The shock of black hair was wild against the bright prison garb, and the destroyed blanket lay between the two of them. They had only met for two hours, but Light already felt the challenge. He had leveled up in a game he never knew he was playing, and Beyond, with his twisted grin and scorching words would be the next boss.

With a shudder, Light wondered if Beyond Birthday would be Light Yagami's destruction.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh yes. Oh yes. I got this DONE. <strong>

1) Those murder methods, as far as I'm concern are valid, but very unconventional.

2) It's been brought up that I made Beyond too intelligent (something like that), but we never did know the full capability of Beyond. Besides, I'm the one who makes everything up – I clearly am not on the intelligence level of 'genius' so I can't make BB too smart.

3) "Convoluted intelligence, unconventional beauty and deranged morals. I didn't know you go for that type, Light-chan." Yes, I need to reiterate. –cough-

**Review, my sweeties.**


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